Resident Evil: Neckbreaker
by Brad Heisler
Summary: Agent Hunk is sent in by Umbrella to retrieve the GVirus from William Birkin. Sounds easy enough, but wherever Hunk goes, death isn't far behind. Reviews with constructive criticism are always nice.
1. The GVirus

"This way," Hunk's teammate said as he jerked his MP5 down the hallway to the left. Normally, Hunk would be on point but it wouldn't matter by the end of the mission anyway. Soon, his teammate, codenamed Cobra or something like that, would be dead, just like all the rest. Mr. Death always came back alone.

Hunk and Cobra made their way through the tunnels underneath the sewers of Raccoon City, making their way towards their mission objective.

In the next room over, completely oblivious to Hunk and Cobra stood William Birkin, marveling over his brainchild, the G-Virus. He had figured out the formula for the anti-virus, Devil, earlier that day but that didn't compare to the G-Virus. Stopping it was easy, creating it was a completely different story.

"It's sheer perfection," Birkin spoke, almost obsessively as he opened the case holding his deadly concoction, "My precious G-Virus, no one will ever take you away from me."

Birkin removed a sole tube from its cradle and then shut the case. As the G-Virus case locked itself into place, the door on the furthest side of the laboratory opened and Hunk and Cobra stepped in.

"There he is," both soldiers trained their MP5s on Birkin, whom had snatched up the Virus and pointed a small handgun at his uninvited guests.

Clearly outnumbered and outgunned, Birkin began slowly walking away, "So you've finally come."  
Moving outside of the doorway, his gun still trained on Birkin, Hunk replied, "Doctor, we're here to collect the G-Virus sample."

"Sorry but I won't just hand over my life's work." As he spoke, Birkin continued to back up until he hit a desk. His arm slid across it, knocking over several canisters and test tubes. Hearing the smashing equipment, Cobra shot off half a magazine into Birkin's right side.

"Stop it!" Hunk commanded as he pushed his teammate's gun barrel away from Birkin. "You might hit the sample."

Hunk walked up to Birkin and picked up the G-Virus. "That's it alright. Okay, let's move out."

Hunk filed out of the room. From his shoulder strap, a voice spoke, "Alpha team, have you retrieved the sample yet?"

Pulling the radio out from its holster, Hunk pressed the transmit button and replied, "Affirmative. We'll be at the rendezvous point in one minute." With that, he placed the radio back into it's pouch and continued walking down the hall towards the rest of his team.

From behind him came an inhuman scream of pain and fury. Hunk and Cobra turned around to see a hulking monster with a massive right arm bounding towards them.

Hunk flung himself backwards, the creature's claws just missing his throat. Scrambling back to his feet, Hunk's chest was hammered by the creature's right arm and Hunk flew back, smashing into the hallway wall. The G-Virus case slipped from his hand, the contents all scattered across the floor.

Hunk sensed death approaching, but it wasn't coming for him. Death never went for him, always the people around him. This was the part of the mission where all of his comrades die and he's left alone yet again.

The creature that was once William Birkin grabbed a handful of the G-Virus samples, injected himself with them and thundered past Hunk, intent on killing Cobra.

Sitting up, Hunk saw the sole G-Virus vial Birkin didn't inject into himself. Tucking it away into one of his extra magazine pouches, Hunk stood up and drew out his combat knife, ready to take on Birkin.

"Nooooo!" Birkin had closed in on Cobra and raised his arm. Before he even had time to think about reloading, Cobra sat dead, a giant gash in his chest.

Hunk crept up directly behind Birkin and stabbed his combat knife into his shoulder. Birkin turned around to his left, and Hunk rotated around, keeping Birkin's back directly in front of him.

As Birkin swayed his head back and forth, looking for the person that had stabbed him, somewhat on his back seemed to move, pulsate almost. Noticing this, Hunk pulled the combat knife out of Birkin's shoulder and stabbed it into the moving lump on his back.

Birkin roared furiously clawing at his back in an attempt to remove the knife, Hunk took hold of the knife, ripped it out and shuffled backwards, as Birkin continued to flail about in pain and anger.

As Birkin began to regain his senses, Hunk's other two teammates rounded the corner.

"What is that thing?!"

"Fire! Fire!"

Hunk dropped down, just escaping the bullets flying through the corridor. There was a momentary cease fire and Hunk heard one of the team scream, and their body drop to the floor. Hunk began to look up but flattened himself as more gunfire ripped through the air.

"Oh my god!! Aaaauggghh" The last to die had a claw stuck in his throat. As Birkin removed it, the body slid down the wall, landed with a thump and toppled over.

Birkin stood, perhaps marveling over the death and destruction he caused. Hunk moved silently, putting the combat knife back into it's holster, it would only get in his way. Stepping up behind Birkin, Hunk wrapped his left arm around Birkin's body mass, the other rose up and grasped what used to be Birkin's chin. Squeezing his face, Hunk pushed Birkin's head to the left, then quickly snapped it back around to the right. A loud bone cracking noise was heard, and Birkin staggered forward, Hunk releasing him from his grasp.

Hunk stepped back a step, watching Birkin. He shouldn't have staggered forward, he should be dead. Birkin apparently was not dead, for he whirled around and clubbed Hunk upside the head with his arm. Hunk flew back, smashing his back into a sewer grating. His vision clouded and he slumped over, unconscious.


	2. Mission Accomplished

Hunk slowly opened his eyes. Through the lenses of his gasmask he saw two bodies lying on the ground and someone limping towards him. Before any of this could actually register in his head, his eyelids closed themselves and he yearned for more sleep.

After a second or so of sitting against the sewer grating, trying to block out his headache, stiff neck and aching back, a wave of realization washed over him. As if it was freezing water, Hunk jumped up, as alert as ever. One thought rang out in his head. "G-Virus. I have to get it to Umbrella."

Analyzing the hallway, Hunk confirmed the two bodies as members of his team. They lied motionless, presumably dead. After all, nobody else survived his missions, why should they be expected to?

Stumbling over the two bodies was the final member of his team, Cobra. He had three big gashes across his chest where Birkin had slashed him and there were multiple little holes in his clothing. Cobra moaned and continued shambling towards Hunk. He wasn't acting like a normal person, more like one of Umbrella's experiments.

Glancing at his wristwatch, Hunk assessed he had been unconscious for three or so hours, then he reverted his gaze back to Cobra. His best guess would be that Birkin had injected himself with some strain of the T-Virus. When he slashed Cobra, he passed the virus on and although Cobra's gasmask prevented him from transmitting the virus to anyone, it couldn't stop him from trying.

Hunk drew his VP70 and pointed it at Cobra, thumbing back the hammer. For the sake of procedure he commanded Cobra to stop. As had been expected, Cobra let out an empty moan and continued shambling onward. With a pull of the trigger, Cobra dropped with a bullet through his head, permanently dead.

Walking over to the other bodies Hunk fired off two shots, one into each of their heads. With all of them dead for good, he raided their inventory. He put a fresh clip in his VP70 and packed four extra MP5 clips away. If the T-Virus really had spread throughout the city he needed to be armed adequately.

With the immediate danger apparently dealt with, Hunk removed the radio from its pouch on his shoulder. Pressing the transmit button, he spoke with his usual cold, serious voice. "This is alpha team." He reached up and touched the G-Virus with his free hand as if to confirm what he was going to say next. "Mission accomplished."

Hunk released the radio transmit button and stood still, waiting for a response. Over the hum of the fluorescent lights above, a voice on the radio spoke out. "Roger, we'll rendezvous at the meeting point."

Replacing his radio, Hunk started off. He climbed up out of the sewage and ascended a stairway to a large metal door. He pushed open the door and stepped through, ready to encounter whatever came at him.


	3. The Fourth Survivor

**This chapter is the full first half of the 4th Survivor section of this fanfiction. It contains the old 4th survivor chapters and a new part of a chapter I'm working on. Reread the old stuff, read the new stuff and review.

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Hunk pushed open the metal door and stepped through, bracing himself for anything lunging at him. But nothing did. The closest threat was a blood stained woman in a tank top and shorts swaying back and forth where she stood. There were four more infected in the area, one standing in the far off corner, another on the bridge connected the two halves of the room and the other two stood blocking the only exit.

The tank top wearing zombie didn't even have a chance to react as Hunk's hands wrapped around her and snapped her head around, cracking the bones at the base of her skull and severing her spinal chord. All of her weight dropped into Hunk's arms but rather than dropping her, he lifted her up. By this time, all of the zombies in the room had been alerted of Hunk's presence and started towards him. Hunk bumbled forward, dragging the woman's dead weight with him. The zombie on the bridge made a lunge for Hunk but he whirled the woman's body around and threw it at the zombie on the bridge. The bodies collided and both fell off the bridge to the sewers below. Hunk pressed onwards, kicking aside the two zombies in front of the door, opening it and stepping inside.

The door slammed behind him and the zombies in the other room were no longer important, their threat replaced by the undead in this room. Hunk dodged past the first two without a problem. When the third zombie guarding the door lunged at him, he stepped aside and twisted its arm behind its back. With one hand on its arm, Hunk grabbed the back of the zombie's skull with his free hand and bashed it into the nearest wall. A loud crunch was heard and when its face was pulled away from the concrete wall, it was smashed in and drenched in blood. Throwing the body aside, Hunk dashed out the exit and down the stairwell.

Stepping off the final step, Hunk found himself in sewage yet again. Hunk rounded the corner, coming face to face with a giant spider. It reared itself up, preparing for an attack. Hunk bounded over it only to meet yet another spider. He jumped up, knees rising and crashed down on top of it, squishing the spider. Hunk bounded down through the corridor as the spider lay, twitching. At the end of the hallway, he ascended a ladder, almost feeling happy about leaving the sewer sludge behind.

Popping his head out of the manhole, Hunk saw two Dobermans, each with patches of fur missing, exposing their rotting flesh and deteriorating muscles. As they passed each other they growled and continued pacing back and forth in what appeared to be a canine kennel. When both dogs had their backs to him, Hunk climbed out of the manhole. His MP5 unslung itself and clattered to the ground. As Hunk repositioned it, the dogs turned and ran full speed towards him. The dogs jumped up, lunging for his face. Hunk rolled under them as they collided with the wall. Hunk turned his head and started to run off in the other direction when a third dog rounded the corner and started bounding towards him. The dog leaped up, mouth open and ready to bite, and found his jaw meeting Hunk's combat boot. Before any of the dogs could recover, he was running through the kennel and out the door.

Stepping into this room, the first things Hunk was alerted to were the two zombies lying face down on the ground. He approached the nearest one, staying outside of its reach, and raised his foot above its head. There was a loud crunching sound when the heel of Hunk's boot broke through the zombie's skull. Hunk wiped his boot on the ground and readied himself to take care of the other zombie. He pushed off with his left foot and delivered a running kick to the zombie's head. With a snapping sound, its head broke off its shoulders, landing a foot or so in front of two zombies shambling towards Hunk.

Hunk wrapped his hand around his combat knife, readying himself for the oncoming undead.

Hunk took a step forward. The nearest zombie lunged towards him. Hunk slid his combat knife past its outstretched arms and through its chin into it's skull. He pulled the knife out of it's head and pushed the body past him, but it didn't fall. The zombie wheeled back around, brain apparently still intact, and knocked the knife out of Hunk's hand. It jumped on him, desperately trying to get at fresh meat. Pushing against the zombie's weight, Hunk wrapped his hand across the zombie's face and wrenched it back, breaking it's neck.

Dropping the body, he readied himself for the next ghoul. It lurched forward, as hungry as the one before it. Hunk grabbed it's inside forearms and pushed them outwards, effectly stopping it from moving forward. With a step back, Hunk forced the zombie onto it's knees and then plowed his boot into it's face. Following through, Hunk's boot and the zombie's head hit the ground with a bloody crunch. Scooping up his knife, Hunk ran through the door before the two zombies still behind him could try to get a bite at him.

He stepped out of the doorway into a parking garage. As the door slammed shut, three zombified dogs all turned their heads towards him. They started to run full speed and Hunk narrowly avoided their snapping jaws, jumping on top of the nearest car. In between kicking the dogs off the car, he assesed his situation. His best bet would be to get from car to car to the door at the other side of the parking lot. Hunk gave one of the dogs a nice solid kick and made a run for the closest vehicle. He hopped off the car and sprinted across the lot, keeping the nearest SUV in his sight. He flung himself atop it, just getting away from a set of bloody zombie dog teeth.

Hunk jumped from car to car, the dogs staring up at him, jumping and growling through their drooling, bleeding jaws. At the last car, he slid down the hood and ran as fast as he could to the door, ripping it open and slamming it closed. Two thuds and more growling followed him, but he was safe. From the dogs atleast.

The hallway Hunk found himself in was completely empty except for a piercing cawing sound that echoed throughout the entire place. With his hand wrapped around his knife, he walked through the hallway. At the first corner, Hunk poked his head around and a flock of crows rushed at his face. Keeping his head low, he bolted through the hallway, not wanting to confirm whether or not they were infected.

Birds rushed at him from all directions but, dashing in a zig-zag pattern, he managed to avoid being bitten or even scratched. At the end of the hallway was a stairwell, and none of the birds followed him up. This far without a single problem, no bites, no scratches, and without even sweating. Classic Mr. Death, Hunk thought to himself, ascending the stairs. More growls could be heard from the top of the stairwell and he treaded carefully and quietly.

Another three dogs stood guard here. One turned the corner and the other two were luckily facing the other direction. Hunk rushed towards the closest dog and pounced, kicking it and landing on top of it. With a whelp, the felled dog brought the remaining dogs running. With a small running start, Hunk jumped over the first dog and landed his boot in the last's face. It let out a short wail and Hunk jumped off it and kept running down the hall with all three dogs in pursuit. But, none of them could catch a bite before he slid through the door at the end of the hallway.

Hunk opened up the door and found himself in an office. There was a door off to his right and past that was a zombie in a police uniform staring at him. Both of them started off at the same time, Hunk for the door, the zombie for Hunk.

The zombie narrowly missed Hunk as he walked through the door, finding himself face to face with five more zombies scattered about the room. Tired from all of the running from the birds and dogs, Hunk snaked his way through the office, avoiding fighting the zombies. He shoved past the two blocking the blue double doors and exited the room.

It had appeared as if he had ran out of the frying pan and into the fire. Six more zombies were in this room, encircling him. Hunk drew his combat knife with lightning speed and stabbed it into the skull of the zombie directly in front of him. Before dead weight caught it and it dropped, Hunk grabbed it by the lapel and flung it towards the three zombies blocking the closest door. All of them were caught off balance and Hunk opened the door a crack and slid through.


	4. Bravo Team

**This is a transition chapter, to kind of get me back in the groove of things seeing as how I haven't updated this story in over a year. I hope you all, and by you all I mean the three people that will read this, enjoy it and maybe even review it.**

"Where the hell is he?"

"No idea."

"I don't get it. It shouldn't take four hours to collect just one tiny little vial."

"You know, things are never that easy with him."

This is how the conversations had been going for the past three hours and forty six minutes between operatives Gila and Ironlung. They were half of Umbrella Special Forces' Bravo team, Alpha team's back up for this mission. Their objective was to keep the rendezvous point secure.

They were positioned on the roof of the Raccoon City Police Department. In the past three hours and forty nine minutes, they had witnessed the virus spread throughout the city beneath them. The undead filled the streets, innocent civilians were torn and mauled by ghouls, their screams filled the air until they faded into heartless moans. They had listened to all of this, stood and watched as these horrors happened and could do nothing about it. They were bound by their orders.

"Just be happy you're not stuck with _his_ squad."

They had heard the stories, read the mission reports and his dossier. It was a blessing to have never worked alongside "_him_".

"I don't know, I think I'd rather be dead than have to stand here in this freezing cold."

As soon as those words escaped Gila's lips, a loud knocking was heard. It came from behind the doorway that leads down to the police department. Both Gila and Ironlung turned and trained their eyes on the door.

"Once upon a midnight dreary," Ironlung muttered under his breath. The rapping came again, louder this time. Both soldiers had their guns aimed at the door. They inched closer and closer to the door, at the ready. They waited, standing outside the door for the knocking to repeat again. Time ticked by, seconds, maybe even minutes, but the knock didn't return.

Ironlung pressed himself up next to the door. He looked towards Gila, who nodded and focused his handgun at the doorway. The air was thick with suspense and, after what seemed like hours, Ironlung threw open the door and turned into the doorway, handgun first.

There was nothing there. "Nevermore" ran aimlessly through his mind. In front of him, Ironlung saw naught but a dimly lit hall with wood floors, bad wallpaper and cheap, half-working chandeliers hanging from above. He relaxed a little, but kept his gun pointed forward. He waved his hand to the end of the hallway and started to move in, carefully. Gila, understanding the gesture, filled in position right behind him.

The floor creaked beneath their feet. The chandeliers flickered on and off, and their eyes went fuzzy, trying to adjust. They shuffled through the hallway nearing the corner at the end of this stretch. Ironlung felt fear run up and down his spine. He usually kept cool in these situations, but this wasn't your average mission. The city had gone to hell all around them, they had just heard a ghost knocking, and a poorly lit hallway isn't exactly the happiest place in the world.

He was as alert as ever. He heard every step he made, every breath he took, every heartbeat. He could practically hear the wallpaper peeling off of the walls.

"Where the hell are you two?" The voice burst from their radios.

Ironlung pulled his out and hit the call button. "We were securing the entryway to the roof. Heading back to our posts right now, over." He slipped the radio into its pouch and turned around to start walking back down the hallway.

But the empty hall wasn't quite so empty any more. Ironlung and Gila turned to see a hulking figure in a black trench coat towering over them. It looked human, but it stood seven, eight, maybe even nine feet tall and carried a cold look of death on its face. The monster let out an inhuman roar as it lifted its arms and pummeled them into Gila. A loud crack and screams of agony filled the air as the beast snapped Gila's spine.

With a cry of surprise, Ironlung backed up. He was paralyzed with fear, watching his comrade writh with pain on the ground. The tyrant turned and started at him, but he just stood there, locked in place. The tyrant grew ever closer, growling, stomping closer.

Something clicked. The fear wouldn't leave, but it atleast released him from its grasp. He started backpedaling, walking away from the hulking figure closing in on him. It was then that Ironlung remembered he had a gun. He lifted the gun up, aiming directly at the trenchcoat's center and let loose.

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

The bullets ripped into the tyrant's chest, riddling it with holes.

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

But it didn't stop. Instead, it seemed to come faster, fueled with rage. Bullets erupted from Ironlung's gun

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

but even with each shot

BA-BA-BAM!

the tyrant grew closer, closer. He kept storming forward.

BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

The Tyrant was within grabbing reach of Ironlung. It raised its arms

CLICK-CLICK!

"Nevermore."

The tyrant brought its fists crashing down. The corrider went silent, the air thick with the soundless noise of death.

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	5. Death Hall

**Some of you may be wondering why I leave off in the middle of HUNK's mission, and then start telling the story of those two random USF agents. First off, I needed to start the story back off somewhere fresh because I hadn't updated in over a year. Second, I got kind of bored of telling step by step the Fourth Survivor mission and I wanted to skip ahead to the end of HUNK's mission and that seemed like an appropriate way to do that. So here is the next chapter, continuing things back from HUNK's point of view. Hope you like it and please read and review. Thanks.

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Death consumed him. It followed him wherever he went. It ensnared him in its grasp, afflicting all around him, turning him cold, pushing everyone away. Death had become so familiar with him that he had even taken its name.

Mr. Death walked down the corridor, past the peeling wallpaper, wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet. Halfway down the hall, two bodies lay, torn and contorted, drenched red in blood. Handgun drawn, agent HUNK approached the bodies. They didn't respond to his movement. They were most likely dead, and if they were dead now, chances are they wouldn't be shortly. Two trigger pulls and these bodies weren't going to bother anyone anymore. HUNK put one bullet into each of their heads.

Seconds after the shots rang out, he was hit hard, square in the back. The force of the attack slammed him forward, sprawling him out on the floor. His gun flew out of his hand, landing several feet down the hall.

HUNK rolled around to see his attacker. Standing above him was one of Umbrella's pride experiments, the T-103 Tyrant. He couldn't say that he had expected this, but his training had readied him for anything. The tyrant lifted its arms up high over its head and HUNK used this brief moment to kick himself backwards. The crushing hands just barely missed him as he slid back down the hall.

With a quick dash, the handgun was within reach and HUNK turned and blasted five, six, seven rounds into the hulking giant, each carefully aimed at its heart. It let our a roar of anger and ran at him, arms flailing. With a quick swipe, the beast knocked the handgun out of HUNK's hands and sent him cascading down the hall.

He recovered quickly, and slung his MP5 out from under his shoulders, aiming again at the tyrant's heart and open fired. Within three quarters of a mag the gap between the two was closed and HUNK was sucker punched yet again, thrown down the corridor, his MP5 clattering to the ground.

This time he was less swift to get back up. He had thought he heard bones cracking and the hit left him a little bit dizzy. Forcing himself up, HUNK established he had no broken bones, no permanent damage to his body. He had been left weaponless, his VP70 and MP5 too far out of reach. The hallway too small to use a grenade in. Time was running out, the tyrant was closing in on him.

Complete the mission. He had gotten this far, the rendezvous point was just outside the door. The tyrant continued stomping forward. He'd never failed a mission before. Just walk outside the door, fire up the flare, get in the helicopter. The tyrant still hulked towards him. Wait.

The tyrant raised its fist in the air. HUNK pulled out his flare gun and fired it off directly at the tyrant's chest. The flare lit and the hall filled with bright red-pink light. It crashed into the beast's heart, erupting as it impacted. Sparks flew all throughout the corridor. The tyrant let out an inhuman scream and clutched its chest. The force of the impact sent it stumbling backwards. It fell and dragged itself out of the hallway, growling as it went.

HUNK let the tyrant go. By the time it recovered he'd be long gone anyway. He walked down the hallway and picked up his guns. He holstered the VP70 and slung the MP5 back over his shoulder and walked out the door at the end of the coorider, sliding another flare into the flare gun.

The sun was sitting low in the sky. It was exceptionally cold out for a September night. HUNK walked out into the center of the roof and launched a flare up into the sky. He looked out onto the streets below while he waited for the chopper to arrive.

Death surrounded him. Umbrella's children filled the street. They wandered about aimlessly, dragging themself about. Several buildings all across the city were on fire. Car alarms and police sirens were met by hollow moans from the living dead.

Off in the distance, HUNK watched as a police car and an eighteen wheeler collided. It had looked as if the people in the police car jumped out seconds before the accident. Poor bastards.

Soon, the whirring of helicopter blades permeated the air, and a rope ladder dropped down onto the roof. HUNK climbed up the ladder. He sat down and took off his gas mask.

"Once again, only you survived Mr. Death," the chopper pilot speaks with a cold bitterness. "Always only you survive Mr. Death," the pilot continues. But HUNK does not respond to the pilot. He doesn't care.

"The Death cannot die" the survivor thinks to himself with a warm smile.

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**Oh, its not over. This is only the beginning.**


	6. Bzzzzt

**In the past five chapters I completely covered the events of the 4th Survivor game. As of now, my story begins. I'm leaving behind canon, and this chapter and the rest of my story is going to take place directly after the 4th Survivor. Now, although it might not be canon, I've done my best to make my idea fit into the Resident Evil universe, and I think it fits in quite snuggly, or at least it will when all is said and done and I've finished telling my tale.**

**In conclusion, this is where my own writing comes in, my own ideas, so I'd really appreciate reviews on how its written, what you think of how the story progresses etc. so I can improve. Thank you, read and enjoy.  
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His head was pounding. It was on fire, much like the smoldering metal heap around him. He was lying face down on the streets of Raccoon City. The crackling of flames and grisly moans came from everywhere. He got himself up. Once again, only he survived.

The chopper had crashed. It landed thirty or forty feet in front of him. Atleast it, and him, had gotten far enough away from that _thing_. He had already fought two giant monsters and wasn't particularly looking foward to combating another.

How did this happen? He retreived the virus, got to the rendezvous point. Things are never that easy he knew that.

"Always only you survive Mr. Death," the pilot remarked. He smiled. "The Death cannot die." He sat back to relax, another mission accomplished.

"Why is it only you survive Mr. Death?" Hunk turned and looked at the pilot. He always got these snarky remarks. "Don't you think its funny Mr. Death?" The pilot was getting on his nerves. "I just think its kind of weird that no one else comes back with you Mr. Death."

It was like a fly buzzing.

"Isn't that a strange coincidence?"

Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzt.

"You know, if I didn't know any better..."

Bzzt bzzzt, bzz bzzt bzzzzzbzzz bzzzt bzzbzzt bzzzzbzzzz...

"...i'd probably say that..."

...Bzzt bzzzzbzzbzzz bzzz bzzzzt...

"...you were ki- _SHIT_."

Something exploded against the side of the chopper. It lurched and started dragging off to one side, but remained in the air.

"_Shit shit shit!_" Sirens and red lights went off all across the dashboard. The pilot was frantically pressing buttons and cursing. Hunk looked out the chopper door. Down on the streets below, another one of Umbrella's experiments stood, staring up at the helicopter. It had disgusting brown, flaky skin and a big pink vein bulged out of its chest and neck. In its hands was a rocket launcher, barrel smoking.

"SSTTTTTAAAAAAARRRSSSSS," the creature growled as it loaded up another rocket. Hunk looked around. The pilot was still clicking buttons and cursing, desperately trying to keep the helicopter in the air. He had to act quickly. He grabbed hold of the roll up ladder on the floor. The rocket launcher was loaded and lifted up, aiming at the chopper.

There was a loud hiss as the rocket erupted out of the barrel, flying through the air. Hunk rolled out of the chopper. The ladder unrolled as he dropped. The second rocket crashed into the side of the helicopter. There was no hope left for it or the pilot. The ladder fully unraveled, it stopped falling. Hunk did not. He lost his grip and fell the rest of the way to the ground.

He heard the chopper crash into the ground, the gas tank exploded on impact, fire fell from the sky, and then passed out.


End file.
